


Code in By Doze

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank is sick. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Code in By Doze

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://brooklinegirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**brooklinegirl**](http://brooklinegirl.livejournal.com/) just because. ♥

  


Gerard stops at the foot of the bunk, staring at the mound of tissues piled up in the aisle. There’s an empty Kleenex box next to it and a Costco box of ten more on the floor beside that. He tugs Frank’s curtain and peers in. “Sick?”

“I hey you.”

“I brought you some Vicks.”

“I lub you.”

“And, like, we have a whole pharmacy of shit that the fans brought. Airborne. Echinechea. Emergen-C. A neti-pot. Zicam. It’s…man if over the counter shit did anything for me, I’d be super healthy and high as a kite.”

“You’re thick.”

“No. You’re sick. Not that that’s anything new. I hope you give the girls all the vaccines in the world. Or that Jamia’s got an immune system she passed on to them.”

“I hey you a dot.” Frank grabs a Kleenex and blows his nose into it then crumples it and tosses it on the pile.

“That is so unsanitary.”

“You? You are lec…cadding me unsadidary? _You_?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, it is. You should have a bag or something.” Gerard sits on the edge of the bunk and pats Frank’s knee. “Because when you have to clean it up, you’re just going to infect yourself again.”

“Go abay.”

“Maybe you can get vitamin shots.”

“I gib you bitamin shots.”

“I don’t like needles.” Gerard frowns as Frank balls his hand into a fist and tries to make contact, failing miserably. “Are you trying to hit me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re bean.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

Gerard sighs and rolls his eyes, moving deeper into the bunk and stretching out next to Frank. “I am not.”

“You are.” Frank grabs another Kleenex from the box on his chest and sneezes into it, the sound magnified in the small space. “Ow. Ow, by head. Cut by head off.”

“No. I like your head.” Gerard moves the Kleenex box off Frank’s chest. “Take your shirt off.”

“I ab _tho_ dot in da bood.”

“Shut up. Take your shirt off.” Gerard tugs it up from Frank’s waist and guides it toward his head, leaving Frank no choice but to take it off or be suffocated with it on his head. Frank flails, fighting a losing battle against the fabric, so Gerard helps tug it off over his head and arms, tossing it to the end of the bed.

“Dow I’b _really_ dot in da bood.”

“Shut up.” Gerard raises up on one elbow and opens the jar of Vicks, scooping out a huge glob and putting it on Frank’s chest. He rubs slowly, small circles down to the tattoos on Frank’s abdomen and up to the base of the scorpion on his neck. “See? Sometimes I’m totally altruistic.”

“You’re bean and I hey you.” Frank closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and actually sounding as if he’s getting air instead of phlegm. “Bud I hey you less ride dow.”

“Yeah?” He keeps rubbing, closing his own eyes and listening to Frank start to breathe. “What if I keep it up?”

“Mmm. Bite lub you.”

Gerard leans in and kisses Frank’s forehead, leaving his lips against the warm clammy skin. “I bite lub you too, Frankie.”  



End file.
